by Icy Sedgwick
Jyx stood up and pushed his hands through his hair. He bent to inspect Bastet, but wakefulness would be a long way off for her yet. Perhaps he would have time to clean things up before Eufame got back. He would need to think of an exceptional reason why the pterosaur was missing, but maybe things would be all right.
Jyx walked back into the main Vault. His mouth dropped open as he surveyed the scene. Broken glass littered the floor, and the tables holding the shattered alchemical apparatus smoked under the weight of their chemical burdens. A necromantical residue smeared the walls and most of the surfaces, tracing the pterosaur’s destructive path. Jyx didn’t even dare return to Eufame’s chambers to check on the breakages in there.
A slow, heavy tread on the spiral staircase turned Jyx’s blood to ice water. He stared around at the immense damage. The Wolfkin would punish him for sure. They were too loyal to Eufame not to—and there was nothing he could do to change their loyalties. Unless…
Jyx ran the length of the Vault and crouched in the shadow beside the archway. The descending Wolfkin grunted with each step, and Jyx fancied he could already feel its hot breath on the back of his neck. He steeled himself, and held out his trembling hands. He stared at the patch of stone floor immediately inside the doorway, and visualised a glowing red net of energy.
“Misit hoc rete, misit fortis, capere umbra, eam mea,” whispered Jyx. The scarlet strands of power pulsed as they settled across the stones. The net faded, but Jyx heard it hum as it earthed itself. If he squinted, he could see its faint outline. He pushed himself as flat against the wall as he could, as if he wanted to become part of the stones themselves.
The Wolfkin reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped through the archway. Jyx recognised its sleek white fur and smooth muscles. Eufame didn’t refer to them by name, or even their specific function, but the white one seemed to most frequently shadow the necromancer general in the Vault. Where that Wolfkin was, Eufame was sure to follow.
Jyx reached out to withdraw the enchantment but the net flared into life, sending crimson sparks skittering into the air. The Wolfkin’s head whipped around and its eyes focused on Jyx. Its snarl was cut short as the net became a trap, snapping closed around its shadow.
The fire in the Wolfkin’s eyes dulled to a glimmer, and the anger melted from its face. It stumbled backwards and slid down the wall. Its head lolled to one side, gentle snores emanating from the once-fierce head. Jyx stared down at the docile guard, torn between amazement, pride, and fear.
“I’ve done it… I actually did it. I’ve taken over a shadow.”
Jyx pulled himself to his feet, and peered down at the Wolfkin. Beside it, a Wolfkin-sized shadow swelled to occupy the guard’s standing position, its outline tinged with red fire. It flickered before Jyx, but he got the distinct impression it was looking at him. The faint scent of burnt fur hung in the air.
“Hang on, if I can bend a Wolfkin to my will…”
Jyx turned around and looked the length of the Vault. Row upon row of mummies, potential able-bodied assistants, lay before him. His mother had always told him that many hands made light work—surely this many pairs of hands would make the work almost non-existent. He had to try.
“Okay, you. I don’t know what your name is, but I know how strong your kind is. You might break free of my net, for all I know, but for now, you do what I tell you. Do you understand?”
The shadow made a movement Jyx took to be a nod. He nodded in reply, and strode off through the Vault. He paused when he reached the central cross point of the aisles, and looked towards Eufame’s chambers. Part of him told him to double check his incantations. He shook his head to dispel the doubts. He turned to address the shadow, glad of someone to talk to.
“I know I should check the incantations but I really don’t have time. Miss Delsenza could be back at any time, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take to raise a whole room of mummies.”
Jyx paused to count them. He didn’t think he would need all of them—possibly only half. Maybe even just ten of them would do. They could be sweeping up the broken glass while he laid protective enchantments on the spilled chemicals to prevent them doing any more damage. If they were quick enough, he could even form new glass from the shards to re-glaze the cabinets in the gallery. He couldn’t rescue the enchantments from the broken bottles, but that couldn’t be helped. He’d never seen Eufame use them so far; perhaps she kept them more for show than for practical use.
“I think it’ll be fine. After all, everything worked on the pterosaur; it only went wrong because it couldn’t see, so it panicked. I’ve anointed their eyes so they’ll be able to see. Besides, look how easy it was to ensnare you.”
Jyx pinched himself, unable to believe that he was freely talking to a shadow—and a shadow of a Wolfkin, at that. If only Dean Whittaker could see him now! Apprentice to the necromancer general, and master of a shadow—he would have to make the wall of alumni now.
Jyx fetched the ritual broom from its perch over the doorway to Eufame’s quarters, and handed it to the shadow. Jyx paced the floor around the slabs, careful to draw the correct sigils at the correct points of the circle. He frowned that he couldn’t draw an exact circle, due to the arrangement of the slabs and the dimensions of the Vault, but he was sure it wouldn’t matter. As long as the circle was complete and the sigils were in place, it should be fine. The shadow followed him, sweeping the broom from side to side. Jyx couldn’t hear it speaking the words of banishment, but he felt them resonating all the same.
He returned to his starting point, and the circle manifested in a blast of green energy. Jyx heaved a sigh of relief and turned to the shadow. He took back the ritual broom and returned it to its place above the door.
“You see? That was what I did with the pterosaur, but I need you to go and keep watch. Do not let anyone in, you understand?”
The shadow gave another imperceptible nod and drifted towards the doorway. Jyx made his way to the centre of the circle, or as close as he could get to it, and closed his eyes. A magickal current thrummed in the air, like a sustained bass note, and Jyx took a deep breath.
“Oh great ones, masters of eternity and guardians of the dark places…”
His consciousness slipped sideways with every beat of the incantation, and he fought the urge of his spirit to lurch to the west. His mind’s eye snapped open, and the grey mists of the World Beyond filled his vision. The shades of those who had gone before hovered on the edge of his perception.
A second incantation sprang to his lips. He danced along a sparkling silver cord, flitting from shade to shade in the World Beyond. He invited the souls of the departed royalty to return, to find their old bodies and to live again. The souls massed as shining figures of gold and silver, starlight dancing in their eyes. Even in the World Beyond, Jyx heaved a sigh of relief. They could see.
The third incantation poured out of his throat. He still didn’t know what the notes signified, or what power they held over the dead, but they’d worked on the pterosaur, and now they’d work on the mummies. The figures loomed closer, the starlight seeming brighter and more intense, as the World Beyond faded from view.
Jyx opened his eyes to see a series of silver shadows drifting between the slabs. The shades peered down at the mummies, ignoring the ones they didn’t recognise, and clambering up onto the slab when they found themselves. Sweat snaked down Jyx’s back, and he realised he hadn’t spoken the final incantation yet. They were getting ahead of him.
He allowed his lips to form the fourth and final incantation. Power coursed through him, and out of him, charging the air with palpable energy. The faint tang of ozone filled the room. The souls lay down to meld with the mummies on the slabs, disappearing into the desiccated bodies within seconds. Their collective gasps for air tore apart the silence of the Vault, and Jyx’s ears were filled with the dry, hitching chokes of bodies seeking to breathe.
10
Queen Neferpenthe sat up, coughing up clouds of
ancient dust. Jyx forced himself to uproot his feet from the floor. He didn’t want to move too quickly and risk panicking the mummy, but he didn’t have time on his side. He still expected to hear Eufame descending the stairs, and his thoughts flew to the skeleton embedded in the marble floor upstairs.
“Hello?”
She turned her head to face him, her joints whining in protest. She pried her eyelids open with gnarled fingers, and stared at him with hollow eye sockets. Sparks fizzed in the depths of her skull. The weight of her gaze reminded him of Dean Whittaker. Jyx forced down a gulp.
“Can you see me?” Jyx hoped the mummy would have a magical ability to speak his language, but gestured to himself in case she didn’t.
The mummy bared her sharp yellow teeth and hissed. Jyx let out a tiny gasp, and looked at the Wolfkin shadow, searching its depths for answers. It shrugged in reply, and drifted through the Vault, pausing behind Jyx. His own shadow shrank away from contact with the red-ringed silhouette.
Other mummies sat up in the lower half of the Vault, and pried open their eyes. Some of them let out cries of despair or confusion. The cold air of the Vault smelled of age and stale dust, the scent of arrested decay hanging heavy around him. The last shreds of hope fluttered in his heart, and Jyx made his way between the slabs. His skin crawled to feel the stares of so many empty eye sockets.
“I know you can all see me, and I’ve raised you a bit earlier than planned to help me out,” said Jyx. His gaze flittered from slab to slab, but he couldn’t see their shadows.
Do the dead even have shadows?
Queen Neferpenthe swung her legs over the side of the slab, and her feet slapped onto the stone floor. She pushed herself upright and swayed. The moonstone in her diadem glinted in the flickering light from the braziers. She steadied herself against the slab, but her head rolled from side to side. She reminded Jyx of the drunkards he’d encountered in the Underground City. Perhaps they weren’t drunkards; perhaps they were escapees from the graveyards. Jyx forced the thought from his mind.
“Good, you’re keen, I’m glad, but—”
The mummy planted one foot in front of her and dragged the other foot level. Triumph crossed her pinched features. With a cry of delight, she propelled herself forward another step. She released her grip on the slab and shuffled across the aisle, her joints creaking and protesting with every jerky movement. She headed for the smoking remains of the alchemical table along the western wall.
“No, it’s okay, I was going to tidy that—”
She hooked her fingers under the edge of the table and heaved upwards. Both the table and the mummy’s muscles groaned with the effort, and the last of the apparatus toppled to the floor with a crash. Unnamed chemicals mixed in the cracks between the flagstones, releasing coloured fumes with a hiss. Queen Neferpenthe released her hold on the table, still too weak to overturn it. She looked down at the broken flasks and dented braziers and let out a victorious cry.
The rebellion rippled through the mummies, and withered legs swung from the slabs in the lower half of the Vault. Jyx raked his hands through his hair, searching the floor for signs of shadows. At least then he could control them. He saw none—even the mummies nearest the braziers cast no shadows.
“Would you please just help me?”
The mummies all turned to face Jyx. Silence descended in the Vault, broken only by the rasping breathing of the assembled royalty. Jyx scanned their empty faces, searching for a shred of humanity. He saw nothing but vacant death. Despair was forced aside as panic seized him by the throat and he fought to breathe.
Queen Neferpenthe held up her arms, her hands trembling under the weight of the withered muscle. She opened her mouth and hacked up another lungful of dust. Jyx recognised the pose from his readings and leapt forward to stop her mid-incantation. Before he could reach her, she uttered three long, guttural syllables. Fragments of energy flickered in the ether, disappearing into the waiting mouths of the mummies.
“Why won’t you just do what I’m asking?”
Jyx screamed at the mummies, anger and fear tussling for control over his nerves. He thought of the Impetritae Inceptivus with fury. They weren’t just initial incantations—the book contained serious magick, and it should have contained a warning. The Dominantur Umbras did. Besides, what kind of magician kept books with pages that were stuck together? There could be all manner of useful or important information on those pages.
A nagging hook of doubt buried itself in the back of Jyx’s mind. Before he could consider it further, the mummies roared in unison, and scattered. Emboldened by Queen Neferpenthe’s rebellion and nourished by the ether, they lurched between the slabs. Two of the younger royals pushed over a slab, crowing about their achievement as the marble hit the floor with a crash. Queen Neferpenthe led three mummies up the spiral staircase to the gallery, where they set about smashing the remaining cabinets and destroying their contents. Hundreds of enchantments flickered around the room, hanging in the air like persistent fireflies.
Jyx ran to the end of the Vault. Several pairs of paws pounded down the stairs, the shadows of more Wolfkin looming large against the stone wall. The Wolfkin by the doorway stirred, and the shadow at Jyx’s shoulder drifted towards it.
“No! I haven’t released you! I need your help to control these mummies!” Jyx reached out his hands, both in terror and supplication. The shadow was the only element of control he still had, and he wasn’t keen to let it go.
The Wolfkin’s shadow sank to the floor and reattached itself to the Wolfkin’s hind paws. The guard’s eyes snapped open, and the Wolfkin leapt to its feet. It bared its teeth in a vicious snarl, and loomed over Jyx. Hot canine breath licked at his face, and its left paw landed on his shoulder. Claws gripped his skin through his robe, and Jyx yelped as the talons dug into the thin flesh over his shoulder blade.
Two more Wolfkin appeared in the doorway behind the monster before him. They surveyed the devastation in the Vault, taking in the broken apparatus, the shattered cabinets and the overturned slabs. Jyx turned to see Queen Neferpenthe bent over one of the unraised mummies. He shouted a warning, but the Wolfkin cuffed him around the head with its other paw. Stars exploded across Jyx’s vision, and he reeled from the impact. The Wolfkin dug in its claws further, holding him firm.
The newly arrived Wolfkin barked to each other. The black Wolfkin turned and ran back up the stairs. The tawny Wolfkin barged into the Vault, shoving Jyx aside with a massive shoulder, and caught a mummy by the scruff of his neck. Jyx recognised him as Prince Amen-Atep, one of the current ruler’s great-great-great-great uncles. The Wolfkin holding Jyx lifted him off his feet, and Jyx howled from the pain. Blood ran down his back inside his robe, the fabric clinging to the sticky fluid.
The mummies paused mid-destruction. Every pair of eyes turned his way, and ancient nostrils caught his scent. Jyx whimpered in the Wolfkin’s grasp, unable to twist around or free himself.
“Please…let me go…”
The Wolfkin growled at him, but lowered him to the floor. It kept its eyes on the watching mummies and retracted its claws. Jyx collapsed to his knees, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He’d never studied the various healing arts, always considering them to be beneath him. Now, injured and in pain, he realised that such talents could have a real purpose.
The tawny Wolfkin yelped, a thin, high noise that pierced the air of the Vault. Jyx looked up to see it drop the mummy, and clutch its paw to its chest. The mummy whirled and hissed at the Wolfkin, baring his bloodied teeth. He pounced on the guard, knocking it backwards. The white Wolfkin leapt forward to catch its kin, and the dead prince howled. The other mummies stood frozen in the Vault, twitching as they looked between the battle and the door.
Jyx struggled to his feet, still clutching his shoulder. His robes were now sodden and stuck to the wound. He tried to visualise the net he would need to capture the two shadows of the white and tawny Wolfkin, but Prince Amen-Atep rallied himself. He sprang forward, knocking the ta
wny Wolfkin into the arms of the white Wolfkin. All three hit the floor with a crash, and the mummy pounded the chest of the tawny Wolfkin with his fists. Another mummy shuffled across the aisle, this one an ancient princess. She aimed a hefty kick at the ribs of the white Wolfkin; its once threatening barks and growls turned to pathetic whimpers.
Jyx couldn’t see their shadows. He looked at the mummies, still gathered in the Vault, staring at him. He couldn’t rely on the Wolfkin for help, and the mummies wouldn’t obey him. There was only one thing left to do.
Jyx hurled himself through the doorway and scrabbled up the stairs. Half running, half pulling himself upwards with his good arm, he was out of sight of the Vault when he heard the first mummies reach the stairwell. They groaned with exertion, and snapped at each other as they fought to swarm up the spiral stairs.
* * *
Jyx spilled out of the archway and into the main vestibule of the house. A small throng of young men in dark brown habits stood near the grand staircase, attended by a Wolfkin clad in leather armour. Jyx ignored their stares as he scrambled across the hall, panic-stricken and disorientated.
An angry screech burst forth from the archway, followed by a hissing ball of fur. Bastet streaked past him and shot out of the front doors of the House. A stab of guilt attacked Jyx’s stomach as he realised he’d forgotten all about her. Having seen how the mummies attacked the Wolfkin, little Bastet was better off out of the Vault.
Two mummies lunged into the vestibule, outstretched fingers bent into vicious hooks. Jyx dodged their reach and pelted towards the front door. The two Wolfkin that guarded the entrance lowered their ceremonial pikes and growled. Jyx stared at them, a plea burning in his eyes.
Please let me past, please let me past.
He threw himself left then right to avoid the pikes, and he passed the Wolfkin without a glance from either of them. They snarled at the following mummy horde. Jyx allowed himself to look over his shoulder, and at least ten of the long-dead royals had made it into the hall. The young men in habits fled screaming up the stairs, their cries drawing the attention of the mummies. A handful of the dead royals pursued the novices upwards, stumbling and scrambling up the wide staircase.
